Obscurial
by BlackenedQuill
Summary: All Hermione Granger wanted was to be left alone. Unfortunately, life rarely works out that way. Hermione finds herself a precarious situation after being thrown back in time. M rating for Language, Violence, and Sexual Content. Not your typical time travel fic. (On HOLD)
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: So this story has been swimming in my head for quite a while now. Since Fantastic Beast came out, I was fascinated by the concept of an Obscurial, and wanted to take a stab on it. This story is AU, the Hermione here is definitely NOT the same as the one in the books. She is also imperfect. This story is dark, and parts of it are disturbing. While I will not go into detail here, because you'll have to read to find out her background, this story is rated a hard M for: Language, Torture, Graphic Violence, Graphic Child Abuse, Graphic Sexual Abuse, and other disturbing elements. So if any of those things offend you, do not read. I really hope that you like this story.

Also, this story is not finished, so my updates will not be as frequent as my other story. On the plus side, I wrote The Haunting of Edward Mason _years_ ago, so my writing is much, much better.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

* * *

"Well Miss Granger, I believe everything has been settled, your test scores are quite astounding regarding your knowledge of theoretical magic. Unfortunately, due to your lack of practical skills, I believe placing you in sixth year would be more appropriate, it would give you the chance to work on your wand skills and catch up." Dippet voiced cheerily. Hermione, herself, knew that he could place her back to first year and it wouldn't make a damn bit of difference regarding her wand skills. She practically was a squib, having trouble managing the easiest of spells. But whatever made him happy was of no consequence to her.

"Of course Headmaster," she replied monotone.

"Excellent," he exclaimed clapping his hands together. "Now to the last order of business, where to put you," He continued as he got up and reached for the Sorting Hat.

She remembered Snape once told her that the hat takes your choice into consideration. Honestly she hoped her grumpy Godfather was right.

'My my, I see we have once again met My Dear," the hat chuckled in her head.

'You remember me, but that was after this time," she replied confused.

'My magic is not limited by time, Miss Granger, former Slytherin. You were such an interesting child to sort. So full of determination to be the best, a thirst for knowledge, to prove your worth. I see that time has changed you." He finished softly.

"Don't waste your time feeling pity on me, my only goal is to graduate and get on with my life," she hissed back. "Hufflepuff would pretty much guarantee me to fly under the radar, to not be noticed. So could you please get on with it," she finished coldly.

The hat sighed. 'As you wish.'

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Hermione removed the hat and handed it back to the Headmaster.

"Excellent, I'm sure you'll make a fine addition to their house." He spoke warmly before reaching behind his desk. "Here is a set of robes, coursework material and class schedule. Give me just a moment and I'll call your house prefect to retrieve you and show you to your dormitories." He said before speaking to a painting, which nodded and ran off.

A few minutes later, a girl with mousy brown hair showed up.

"Hello, Claire Abbott, Hufflepuff Prefect. If you would just follow me." She said with a smile.

Granger noted how the girl seemed friendly, almost too friendly. _Gee, paranoid much._ She really did need to work on her social skills. This was Hufflepuff, not a pit full of snakes.

"So, I do hope you're prepared being our newest celebrity for a bit," Abbott stated with a chuckle. "You see, Hogwarts hasn't had a transfer student in ages," she finished with a smile.

Granger nearly snorted. _Well hopefully it won't last long._

"Yes, I've heard as much," she replied calmly.

"So, where are you from if you don't mind me asking," the girl asked.

 _So the lies begin. Best get on with it._

"I'm originally from France, but my parents were killed in an accident so I was raised by my Aunt and Uncle. They decided to tutor me, apparently they deemed me unfit for school," she replied.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Abbott replied sadly. "So what led you to Hogwarts?"

"My Aunt and Uncle were killed by Grindelwald's supporters during a raid. Their connections to Albus Dumbledore is what got me a spot here. I am now a ward of the school." She finished monotone.

"My goodness, that's horrible!" The girl exclaimed before falling into silence.

Hermione welcomed the silence. She did not want to converse with the prefect longer than what was deemed necessary. Apparently it wasn't hard either, considering the girl had no idea what to say after that. So they continued to Hufflepuff dormitories in silence.

"Password" the portrait droned out.

"Flobberworms" the girl recited with a smile.

Hermione could already feel her breakfast start to turn up. Maybe Hufflepuff was a bad idea. The portrait swung open and Hermione followed the girl inside. The common room was decorated in yellow and was sickly warmly. She much prefer the coldness of the dungeons.

"This is our common room, girls dormitories are on the left and boys to the right. Your bed is to the farthest window. If you need anything at all, please do not hesitate to ask me." She said as they walked to the dorms and Hermione sat her stuff on her bed. "And Hermione," the girl inquired shyly. "I know that you didn't arrive here on best of circumstances, but I really do think you'll be happy here. Hogwarts is amazing, and everyone in our house is super friendly." She finished with a small smile.

Hermione just turned in silence and changed into her dressing gown before settling into bed. Staring up at the ceiling, she couldn't help but feel a surge of loneliness, if she had known that damn room would have sent her here, she wouldn't have gone near it. _Stupid Hogwarts._ Sighing slightly, she turned on her side. It didn't matter now, Dumbledore had made it explicitly clear that there was no way anyone could send her back. She was stuck. Stuck in a timeline that she didn't belong in, and completely and utterly alone with her magic tied. Something began to shift in her, but she quickly stomped it back.

Now was not the time or place for _that._ She would have to be careful here.

...

The first thing she noticed when opening her eyes was the face of a pretty redhead with very blue eyes staring right at her, correct that, right above her.

The girl then _squealed._

"Finally you're awake!" She exclaimed loudly. "Girls, she's awake!" She practically yelled.

Suddenly Hermione found herself surrounded by her girly housemates.

"I'm Cassandra Prewitt," the pretty redhead stated. "Hannah said that you were a transfer student!" She continued excitedly.

Hermione had to suppress a growl. Fucking imbeciles.

Her left hand began to twitch, that familiar tingling sensation that the potion she drank a day prior was beginning to wean off. _That certainly won't do. They would probably scream and shield their eyes at the true sight of me._ Throwing back the covers she stumbled out of bed. She decided it was better to properly introduce herself. After all, considering the house she was in, it would be strange to be her normal cold self.

"Yes, Hermione Granger" she stated before fumbling in her trunk. "Is there a private bathroom that I could use?" She asked. She needed to drink her potion and it always was a painful experience, one she did not care to explain to her housemates.

"Oh, there's no reason to be shy around us!" Prewitt exclaimed.

"Well, it's just that I'm not quite comfortable with all this yet, being home-schooled and all," she responded as shyly as she could muster, keeping her eyes downcast.

 _Please for the love of god and all that's holy work._

"You can use my private bathroom," Abbott stated warmly.

 _Thank god._

"Thank you," she replied quietly before gathering her clothes and hidden potion.

After following Abbott to her private bath, she promptly shut the door and began to strip. Eyeing her left arm, she noticed a faint pink line began to appear running from her elbow to the inside of her hand. Quickly she reached for the potion and downed it. Immediately her skin felt as if it was on fire, her stomach churned and she nearly dropped the vial. Grasping the sink, she took long deep breaths in an attempt to calm her body down. Soon the pain washed over and faint pink line disappeared. She looked up in the mirror and assessed her image. Back in her timeline she was considered beautiful, despite the scars marring her skin, but here, they wouldn't understand that kind of beauty and it only meant attention and that was something she absolutely did not want. Magic had turned its back on her, so she felt inclined to do the same. Brushing her slightly frizzy hair and covering her dark brown eyes with a pair of old, worn glasses, she decided that she looked mousy enough. Though maybe, mousy wasn't the correct term either, considering she was a full 5'8, but she was uninteresting to look upon that was for certain. Quickly she got dressed and headed back to her dorms to retrieve her books and class schedule.

"Oh Hermione, surely you don't intend on going about the day with your hair like that?" Prewitt asked before scanning her eyes down her robes. "And your robes don't properly fit either, you look like you're wearing a sack," she said sadly.

"Oh leave the girl alone Cassandra," Abbott snarked.

"I for one think you look fine," a girl behind Hermione stated lowly.

Turning around she found a small girl with brown eyes, and light brown hair. The girl was stunning, in an effortless sort of way.

"Thank you," Hermione replied quietly.

"I'm Venecia Parks," she said with a small smile. "I'm heading down for a bite if you want to join me," she finished.

Hermione assessed the girl quickly. Considering how the other girls rolled their eyes and snickered slightly, she felt it was safe to assume the girl was unpopular. _Perfect. She will do just fine._ After all, it wouldn't hurt to have one friendly acquaintance.

"Sure," she replied as warmly as she could muster before grabbing her things and following her new friend towards the Great Hall.

"You'll be the talk of the school for a few days, but after a while it will all die down," Venecia said as they walked down the corridors, Hermione ignoring the whispers of the other students.

"I hope so, I really just want to get through all this unscathed," she replied with a chuckle.

"Don't worry, it might be difficult at first, Slytherins tend to bully us, but fortunately, they spend more time declaring war on Gryffindor more than anything else." She concluded as they reached the Great Hall.

Sitting down she observed there weren't that many students out.

"Since all the teachers are here, I'll go ahead and familiarize you with them. The one to the far right, that's Professor Pletchly, she teaches the female charms and etiquette class. Not that you seem the type, but don't dare let her catch you in anything improper with any of the boys, she's extremely strict."

"Don't worry, I don't have much luck with boys anyways," Hermione replied with a laugh. Sadly it was true, and suddenly a flash of dark red hair and green eyes flitted across her mind, but she snuffed it out rather quickly. _No use it dredging that up anytime soon, or anytime at all for that matter._

"Well, the one beside her is Professor Cartwright, he handles herbology, and Slughorn with Potions, and obviously Dumbledore with Transfiguration, he's the best teacher here honestly. And lastly, that's Professor Steward. He's our DADA professor and new."

Hermione regarded the man, his black hair, fair skin, head thrown back in a laugh. He seemed positively beaming, and quite young.

"Rumor has it that one of our recent graduates tried to get the position, but Dumbledore wouldn't hear of it. Shame really, Riddle would have been an exceptional teacher," Parks prattled on.

Hermione nearly choked on her coffee. Riddle! Why the fuck had she never considered him?

"I'm sorry, Riddle?" She inquired.

"Ah Tom Riddle," Parks said with a dreamy look on her face. "He graduated about two years ago, he was a Slytherin Prefect, really amazing. Treated all the houses with respect," -that Hermione almost snorted. "He really was an excellent student, but he and Dumbledore never really got along. He still comes time from time to assist Slughorn in potions, so you'll see him around." Parks finished as she took a bite out of her pastry.

This was not good. She couldn't afford Riddle to go digging through her head. She'd need to be adequate at best in potions. If she was too good, she'd raise attention, and too inept, also attention. There was a fine line she would be treading, not to mention Riddle had a knack for seeing through bullshit.

Poking around her plate a bit she began to wonder about Steward. Probably would be dead by the end of the year. Riddle wasn't one to play nice. Looking up she peaked at him from behind her glasses. He caught her stare and smiled quickly before turning back towards Slughorn. _Dismissal._ She was beginning to think she was going to be ok.

...

Her classes, for the most part were pretty much the same as in her own timeline, with the exception of charms and etiquette. That woman was a piece of work.

 _"Now I understand your current situation Miss Granger, but that is no excuse to show up to my class, or any other class for that matter, as if a lightning bolt struck your head. You need to take more pride in your appearance, groom yourself better, you're practically an adult, and since no one will be handling marriage contracts on your behalf, you'll have to work that much harder to acquire a husband," the snot nosed bitch said frostily. "From now on I expect you pay attention in class, and work hard, hopefully things will start to pan out for you."_

Honestly, who did the bitch think she was? She had no need for a husband. Obviously, she couldn't dare say that considering it would be such scandal. So she simply bowed her head and mumbled 'Yes Professor' before ducking out of class.

 _"Don't be bothered by Professor Pletchley too much, she's hard on all the females," Parks had said when they left class._

Her last class of the day was DADA, and honestly she was glad her day was nearly over. The Slytherins really did bully her house, and her somewhat. One of the boys though, quiet, Alphard Black, wasn't too bad. He seemed nice enough, even introduced himself, blush tinged cheeks and all. It was almost pathetic considering he was a Slytherin, but he reminded her of Draco, the kinder side of him and she felt a warm tingle of familiarity.

Suddenly the office door opened and Professor Steward walked down the steps gracefully. He commanded attention of the room, almost like her Godfather, just not quite as intimidating. The girls began to giggle quietly before he quieted everyone down.

"We will continue on our course of Dark Creatures, please turn to Chapter 8 on Lycanthropy." His voice was warm, inviting but also with a hint of dominance. Hermione could see why her fellow female housemates were so infatuated with him.

"Now could someone share with the class the distinguishing marks of a werewolf?"

Immediately hands went up in the air.

Hermione absentmindedly drew on her parchment paper while he taught. She was more than familiar with the text. After about an hour of teaching he assigned them 3 rolls of parchment on how lycanthropy effects society and whether regulations are fit.

"Miss Granger, could you please stay behind a moment, I won't take up too much of your time," His voice was smooth. She couldn't help but feel irritated. She had nearly made it all day without being singled out, not included Pletchly of course.

Slowly she packed her bag and walked up front.

"Please follow me to my office," he said without even looking at her before turning and walking up the stone steps.

His office was hardly decorated, as if he never used it. Taking a seat across him she began to fidget with her hands, pretending to be nervous.

"Miss Granger, your scores for this class on theoretical knowledge was quite extensive, it was saddening to see that you lacked the proper wand skill to go along with it." He began warmly.

She needed to nip this in the bud right now, before he got any bright ideas.

"I appreciate your compliment and concern Professor, but I am truly ok with knowing my lack of wand skill. That's why I decided to educate myself on theory as much as possible. So really, you shouldn't worry yourself," she replied kindly.

She noticed a frown appeared on his face, his eyes saddened.

"Miss Granger, no student of mine is considered a waste of time. I really want to help you. So from now on, Dumbledore has agreed that you need personal training. You will report to me three days a week from 7-9pm for wand skill training."

 _Goddamn it. And damn that old man for meddling into affairs that aren't his._

"Really Professor, this really is unces-

"Unnecessary?" He quipped, his tone changing to one of complete dominance. "You are my student and therefore my responsibility." His tone was final, as if daring her to disagree.

She regarded the young professor for a moment. He really was quite handsome, his features were soft, nothing standing out except for exceptional blue eyes. His tone though, the way he held himself was what really caught her attention. While nice enough, was no fuss. Ultimately though, continuing to argue would be nothing but more trouble for her.

"Of course Professor," she replied apologetically. "Forgive me, I'm not used to people going out of their way to help me," she finished softly, hoping her tone would do some damage control.

He simply smiled at her.

"That's quite alright Miss Granger, it is my duty to ensure you receive the absolute best of education to succeed. Please meet me here tomorrow at 7." He responded lightly.

Agreeing quietly she gathered her things and shut the door.

"On and Miss Granger," he spoke softly. "Do see that you're on time, I don't accept tardiness." He finished a tone of darkness in his voice.

She'd be lying if she said she didn't feel a slight shiver at his voice.

 _Damn._

* * *

And there's the first chapter! Please let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

 _"Mummy I'm sorry," My voice quivers._

 _The older woman merely sneers in return. Her eyes cold, hard as she grips the belt in her hand._

 _I clench my tiny fists, my nails digging in the skin._

 _"What have I told you about these incidents?" Her mother asks coldly, unforgiving. "You are an unnatural child, and I will not tolerate these unnatural incidents any longer!" She screams as she backhands me. The blow sends me flying to the hard wooden floor._

 _The belt beats down on my skin, and pain explodes from my head, I can't see through my tears. My pleas go unheard, my screams only seem to send her further into a frenzy. My back is raw, something wet running down my legs and I've realized I've urinated on myself._

 _"Disgusting freak!" She shrills beating the belt on my legs, my arms, my face everywhere._

 _And the pain continues, my throat raw from my broken vocal cords. I can't process the pain anymore, it's everywhere spreading through me like wildfire. Something inside begins to swell, something that licks my frazzled nerves and it's comforting. This thing it speaks._

 _Set me free._

 _Set me free._

 _So I_ _ **let it.**_

 _Sound of bones crunching._

 _ **And It.**_

 _Screams echoing off the walls._

 _ **Is.**_

 _Red splatters across the floor._

 _ **Glorious.**_

...

Hermione gasped, the sheets twisted in her hands. Cold sweat pours from her back, feeling the echoes of pain she had endured. Her mother's face flits through her mind, sending her nearly into a panic attack. _Calm yourself, that wretched bitch can not touch you now._ Taking in deep breaths she forces that darkness back down, it fights, wanting out. _You are not in control here._ She snarls in her mind. _I alone command you._ Soon she leans over her bed and retches, emptying her stomach on the cold, stone floor. Finally, her body calms down. Her mind begins to rationalize again before she quickly cleans it up with a dirty shirt.

Picking up her watch, she realizes it's almost five in the morning, most of her housemates won't be waking till at least six. Throwing the covers back she stumbles to her trunk, trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. Finding her potion she downs it in one go, falling back on her bed, waiting out the pain. Soon enough she grabs her clothes and pads to bathrooms. A good hot shower is more than appealing, wipe away the sweat and grime from her nightmare, or memory. It seemed, no matter how hard she shut it out, memories always came back to her at night, attacking her mind when she was most vulnerable. But she hadn't dreamt of her mother in a long time.

As she washed her hair she began to relax. _You need to get a handle on yourself, you can't afford any mistakes with Steward._ She nearly smacked the tile wall. That blasted teacher was going to get her killed. She needed a way to get out of those lesson. _Maybe when he realizes the worthless squib you are he'll give up._ The thought mocks her. Sadly enough, that really was her best bet. The harsh reality was, magic was lost to her, no use in crying about it. She had done that plenty of times before to last a lifetime.

Stepping out of the shower, she dried her hair to its normal frizzy self, retrieved her glasses and quickly got dressed before heading to the Great Hall for a bite. She reveled in knowing that it would be nearly empty at this hour. As she took her seat, she noticed with dismay, Professor Steward apparently felt the same way. She watched him as he drank his coffee reading the Daily Prophet. His posture was relaxed, almost like Lupin held himself in her third year. She then remembered his tone as she was leaving his office, she felt herself shiver. He was definitely attractive, but she be damned before she allowed herself to be nothing more than a part of his fan club. And with that thought, she stabbed one the sausages on her plate a little harder than necessary.

She peaked another glance at him, but found he simply was not interested in her at all. _Pity._ The thought bleeds out before she can stop it. In all honesty though, what was there to be interested in anyways? She wore robes that were way too big, her hair was frizzy and her face was nearly completely covered by large glasses, and she she could hardly cast magic. She really was worthless looking.

Instead of wasting more time on her unbecoming appearance, she took out her book bag and began to review her coursework. Particularly the one for Potions. Slughorn was nice enough, and thankfully she flew right under his radar. She made sure to insert the right amount of necessary mistakes in her coursework, none too much, but just the right amount to be deemed acceptable. As she scanned her work she heard someone approach her from behind.

"Good Morning Miss Granger," the unmistakable voice of Alphard Black voiced behind her.

She shut her book and turned some. The boy was a typical Black. Dark polished hair, fair skin, grey eyes, posture regal.

"Hello Mr. Black," she returned softly.

He fidgeted some, which was _not_ Black like, before resolving himself some.

"Do you mind if I sit here for a moment?" He asked before scanning the empty room.

Of course, being seen at HufflePuff table would no doubt get him cast out of his own house.

"Sure," she replied, her voice laced with fake nerves before he gracefully sat down.

"Well, I know people say about you, but your transfiguration theory is nothing short than amazing," he said calmly. "Honestly, I need help. Dumbledore is kicking my ass to be frank." He finished with a smirk.

Hermione knew that this was Slytherin way of getting to know someone without outright asking the girl out. Obviously he couldn't very well ask her to Hogsmeade, she was a HufflePuff.

"Not that I mind at all, but I don't want you getting in trouble with your house," she says kindly. "They don't seem to like us HufflePuffs all that much," she finished looking down.

"Eh, I'll be fine," he says waving his hand. "So you'll help then?" He ask, his voice betraying some excitement.

It was a little suspicious, to say the least, but he seemed genuine enough. And refusing him would be stupid, a girl like her had no reason to turn down his offer, it would cause talk and even more unnecessary attention.

"Sure, perhaps in the library on Thursdays, after dinner," she proposed.

Immediately a smile lit up his face at her acceptance.

"Most excellent, thank you" he said as he walked back towards his table with a huge grin plastered on his face.

As she picked up her things, she couldn't help but notice that her little conversation did not escape the attention of Professor Steward. He merely looked at her quizzically.

...

That blasted bint was grating on her nerves. Professor Pletchley apparently made it very publicly aware that she did not approve of Hermione's appearance. Again.

 _"Honestly Miss Granger, I would have thought given our prior conversation that you would appear in class at least halfway presentable. I see now that I was sorely mistaken. How on Merlin's earth do you plan on obtaining a husband looking like that. You are a woman, take pride in your appearance and stop embarrassing yourself," the bint spoke sharply._

Wretched woman. Hermione could imagine throttling her by the throat and it still wouldn't be enough. Fortunately though, the rest of her classes had been fine. Slughorn seemed to be salivating over Beatrice Knott and her quite "superb hand at potions." She'd imagine that the fat man probably already cornered the pretty Slytherin for Slug Club. Not that she was jealous, the last thing she wanted was to waste time in that pretentious, annoying little get together.

"Perhaps you should listen to her Hermione," Venecia said after class. "I mean, I for one think she's being ridiculous, but you could save yourself a lot of trouble if you tried just a bit harder. I'm sure I could help you find a good charm to at least handle some of the frizz."

She wasn't being mean, but spoke out of genuine concern as far as Hermione could tell.

"Honestly Venecia, my chances of finding a husband are pretty dim. But I really don't mind, I don't think I'm meant for married life, I like being left alone," Hermione replied smoothly.

The other girl just sighed and responded "Well, if you need help or change your mind just ask."

That was not going to happen.

"Well, sadly I have to go see Professor Steward for lessons now," Hermione stated as she gathered her bag.

Immediately Venecia got a dreamy look on her face.

"You're so lucky, I wish he would tutor me," she said with a giggle.

 _I'd be more than happy trading places._

"Honestly, he was all business. So I doubt there will be anything pleasant about it."

...

Hermione walked up the steps of the deserted DADA classroom and promptly knocked on the office door. In all honesty, she just wanted to get this over with. There was no point in these private lessons. Her magic was weak at best, there wasn't anything anyone could do about it.

 _Silly girl, if you would just let me help you._

Hermione grit her teeth, silently commanding the voice away. The last thing she needed was _that_ getting out.

"Come in." The Professor's voice was clipped.

Walking inside, she noted the rolls of parchment paper sprawled over his desk.

"Miss Granger, right on time" he spoke evenly with a small smile getting up. "I have to say, your coursework on Lycanthropy ethics and regulations was quite interesting to read. You seem to have a bit of a soft spot." He finished with a chuckle.

"Yes, I suppose I do. While I understand the Ministry's fear, it's not the person's fault they were savagely bitten, to be denied rights that every witch and wizard are entitled is most disconcerting." She replied fiddling with her bag strap.

"Do you share the same enthusiasm for muggleborns?" He asked in return.

Hermione knew she had to tread carefully.

"I believe that if muggleborns were introduced to Wizarding World at an earlier age, there wouldn't be as many problems. It's not their fault the ministry waits until they're eleven to deliver their letter. So, in short, it's not the 'blood' that is the issue, but rather the execution of it," she finished looking down.

Steward regards her for a moment, as if disappointed with her answer. Of course, whether he was disappointed that she clearly defended muggle blood, or that her answer was elementary, she didn't know.

"Yes, but I'm afraid your outlook is quite unpopular. As far as your peers are concerned, Muggleborns are held in the same light as the beasts," he said.

She nearly growled at the term beasts.

"Yes, well, fortunately for me, most Hufflepuffs share my 'soft spot'" she quipped noticing how he smiled coyly in return.

"Anyhow, I believe we have wandwork practice to attend to, we can continue this conversation at a later date," he replied walking briskly by motioning her to follow.

With a wave of his hand, the desk, chairs and tables all receded against the walls. He quickly turned and summoned a dummy from the corner.

"Now Miss Granger, we are going to start out with a simple defensive spell, Expelliarmus." He spoke.

 _Might as well get on with it._

Slowly raising her wand at the dummy, she felt a small swirl inside her.

"Expelliarmus!" She spoke aloud before a weak, red streak sailed and fell before actually hitting the dummy.

"You have to mean it Hermione," the Professor stated staring at her.

 _"You have to want it Granger, relish in its power, you have to enjoy the pain."_ She shuddered at the memory, the faint familiar tingling that nearly makes her vomit and euphoric.

"Expelliarmus!" She says even louder. But it makes no difference, the spell is just as weak as it was before.

Doesn't matter, she long ago lost the feeling of sadness associated with practically losing her magic. No point in crying over spilled milk, as the muggle saying goes. Might as well clean it up and get over it.

Suddenly she felt Professor Steward's body behind her, causing her to jump slightly. "Merlin's beard Miss Granger, calm down" he said with a laugh. "I'm only trying to help," he continued as he placed his hand over her wand hand lifting it up some. "You have to _mean_ it" he breathed in her ear, sending chills down her spine. "Feel your magic connecting with you," he continued in a whisper, "through you, imagine it vibrating through your body," he breathed pressing his body some into hers. She began to feel dizzy, alarm bells ringing in her head, but unable to deny the surge of attraction that resulted by clenching her thighs together some. She could feel her magic vibrating, she could feel his, as if his magic was licking her skin. "Feel it extending through your arm, finally resting in your hand," he said squeezing her hand. She felt the darkness in her _._

It snarled and ripped at her. Wanting to claw its way out, wanting to play with his magic. It wanted out. And she could feel it bubbling hotly in her veins, searing her. Her magic, his magic, his tone, words and body it began to be too much.

"Now" he breathed hotly in her ear.

 _LET. ME. OUT._

 _"YOU DO NOT CONTROL ME!"_ She snarled in response forcing the intoxicating essence back down to where it belonged.

"Expelliarmus" She yelled and though definitely strong this time around, she was just please she didn't take the whole goddamn ceiling down.

Suddenly his body moved, and immediately her magic protested at the loss. He faced her with a wide smile, clapping his hands.

"Well done Miss Granger," he said excitedly. "Come sit in my office, you look a little peak." He finished as he nearly barreled up the stairs.

She could barely manage stumbling through his office door before collapsing in a chair. She watched as he rummaged through his desk and handed her a bit of chocolate.

"I find that it helps," he said as she took it from his hands.

"Funny, it's said to help after a small dementor attack too," she said shakily before taking a bite.

"Yes, though I hope you'll never have to find out personally," he said as he walked to his book shelf, obviously searching for something.

 _Plenty of times, nearly got my soul sucked out on the train my third year. But no biggie._ It's not as if she could tell him that, snorting silently.

"Aha," he exclaimed as he found the book and proceeded to sit down. "Since this is your first lesson, we'll hold off on practicals for today, but normally the first hour would be wandwork and the second hour, I want you to read and do assignments from this book," he said pushing the offending object her way.

She nearly groaned. This whole thing was getting tedious. She didn't want to be here in the first place, and now the blasted bastard was piling more coursework on top of her very busy schedule.

"Now I know it's the last thing you probably want to do, but this book will help you connect your magic with your body." He said beaming at her.

 _Yes, just like you did. Intimately I might add._ She suppressed the urge to shudder from the way his body felt against her own, also noting how he acted as if everything was normal, that professors just practically manhandle all their students that way.

"Of course Sir," she replied gritting her teeth.

Stupid, fucking, attractive bastard.

"Well, go ahead and begin reading. When you're finished with the chapter, write a 1 roll parchment summarizing key points and how you can use it in your personal technique." He said.

"Personal technique?" What the hell was the bastard going on about now.

"Honestly Miss Granger, you didn't think everyone's magic is equal? Go to the library and do some research on magical signatures and core. My goal is to help evaluate what core you have, and how you can improve it to be the best you can possibly be," he finished with a smile.

She could feel a tingling sensation going down her spine at his words. She didn't need to read a book to know what core she was to know it would be detrimental for him to find out. _We could always kill him_ , the voice purred. She shivered. For once, she was finding herself not turned off by the notion. She needed out of this.

"Sir, no disrespect, but is that completely necessary?" She asked. "I mean, perhaps I should be learning things that would be more conducive for my talents. Finding my core will not make me more magically inclined," she stumbled out.

His eyes narrowed.

Shit.

"You believe finding your natural core, and therefore a way to gauge your magical parameters a waste of time? That you finding out what you're capable of is unimportant? " He nearly hissed.

 _Oh I know what I'm capable of_. Suddenly she saw his skin peeling off his bones liked shaved butter.

"No-

"Then you agree, " he interrupted. His voice dominant, leaving no room for discussion. "Excellent then." He finished with a smile.

 _If you want a discussion, all you have to do is tear that pretty little tongue out_. The voice taunts. Tempting.

It seemed that Professor Steward, albeit young, was positively no different to the other swine in this wretched timeline. To him, she was inferior, a weak-willed, magically inept, little girl; that she needed a man to guide her so she could see her true potential. She nearly sneered. Marcus Steward was everything wrong with the world.

" _We shall create a new world, our world; and they can either join it or die screaming in their old one." Her voice saccharine, red lips turned upwards in a feral smile._

"Of course, Sir," she said tightly.

"Good Girl," he says while patting her head like a child. "I look forward to hearing what you find out," he finished before turning his back effectively dismissing her.

She felt it in her back first, the rage; it began to swell and sweep through her. She wanted him writhing on the floor, tongue bitten off, vocal cords raw and bleeding, urine soaked and screaming. She wanted him to _**suffer.**_ She felt her hand clench around her wand, not that she would need it. She wanted his skin torn open, flayed back and organs spilling. She wanted the smell of rotten flesh, and blood between her fingers.

She wanted-

Wanted

Wanted

" _We all go a little mad sometimes," she cackles, red hair caked in blood, torn flesh in her mouth. "Come play with me Hermione," she taunts._


	3. Chapter 3

Whew, its been a beat! I'm sorry this chapter took forever! I've been crazy busy! Anyways, hope you enjoy!

* * *

Hermione leaned back in her chair contemplating her meeting with Black. The boy was sweet it seemed, despite what he groomed himself out to be. And it was pretty obvious he didn't have any trouble with Transfiguration either, but she let him have his excuse. They had only spent about twenty minutes on said coursework before the conversation veered off. She figured it was an opportune time to ask about Riddle. He was a problem that she didn't want to wind up being her problem.

"Eh, nice enough bloke. But something about him seemed to be a little off, brilliant though."

"What do you mean 'a little off?'" She asked with fake curiosity.

He simply sat there caressing the pages of his Transfiguration book with his finger.

"I don't know, just something about him seemed dark, a little dangerous at times," he said still looking down before suddenly shaking it off. "But what do I know, probably just reading into things to much," he finished with shrug.

"You're a Slytherin, isn't that what you snakes do?" She asked with a raised brow.

He merely laughed at the comment.

"Yeah I suppose we do," he finished with a slight chuckle. "Regardless, you'll see him soon enough anyways. Slughorn practically worships the ground he walks on, he's alway pulling him in to assist with his classes. I'd be surprised if you don't meet him by the end of next week."

She had the urge to stab something.

She wanted nothing to do with Riddle. He was dangerous and especially where she was concerned. One peak into her head would send them all to Hell. She could only imagine being 'Oh hey there, yeah I'm from the future and all. Want to know how you nearly destroyed the Wizarding World? That was a conversation she had no intention of having. Despite her potential Riddle problem, she currently had bigger issues to deal with at the present though. Shifting slightly, she glanced down at the book in her lap. After her disturbing lesson with Professor Steward, she immediately had gone to library to research magical cores. Apparently there were five, one being a squib to five being the most powerful. She imagined Steward probably thought she was about a 2 seeing as most people were three or four. Deceiving him would be a much more daunting task than she initial thought, considering he wanted to find her magical core. She could only hide so much.

He would no doubt try to fix her, that is until he realized the horrible ugly truth, then she'd be sent straight to the Ministry. Something which she would never allow to happen.

He's a liability, a loose end that needs tying up. The voice was silky in her mind. Absolutely not. She thought resolutely. She really needed to get herself back on track. After all, she was only a worthless, below average Hufflepuff witch as much as Steward could tell. She needed to keep it that way. But something about how his magic intermingled with her own was something that could not be ignored. It was compatible, it wanted to 'play' with hers and it was utterly intoxicating. He definitely was more powerful than he initially let on.

Maybe he won't be dead by the end of the year. She thought wirely, smirking some to herself.

* * *

"Venecia you have to help me," Hermione spoke frazzled. "Pletchly is going to skin me alive if I can't get this right," she finished whispering in her friend's ear.

The tart she made was an unflattering gooey mess literally oozing onto the table. Even when she had her magic, she never could master cooking charms properly. What was the need anyways? If she wanted a damn tart, she'd just go out and buy one.

"Holy Crow Hermione, what in Merlin's earth did you do?" Her friend asked exasperatedly. Hermione was about to answer when she saw Professor Pletchley nearing their table.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, please just fix it she's coming over," she whispered loudly.

"Ipsa se corrigat" Venecia whispered lowly pointing her wand at the mess. Quickly the tart began to reassemble the right way until it sat beautifully on the table just before Pletchly arrived.

"My my, it seems you won't be such an abominable housewife after all Miss Granger.-" calm yourself. " Now if you would only do something with that birds nest you call hair of yours, you might be lucky enough to attract a decent wizard," She spoke condescendingly as Hermione merely just grit her teeth.

Blasted bitch.

"Yes of course Professor," she said as sweetly as she could muster.

They finished out charms class as Hermione boxed the beautiful tart. She was heading down to the Great Hall for dinner.

"Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?" Venecia asked as they gathered their supplies.

Ah yes, apparently that was this weekend. But she had no real need to go.

"Probably not, I have an ungodly amount of coursework to catch up on," she said smoothly. She wasn't lying actually. Between her normal load and the coursework Professor Steward had piled on top of her, she really was busy.

"Pish posh," Venecia replied flippantly. "Come with me, it'll be fun, you could use some time away from the Castle anyhow," she finished with a smile.

The girl did have a point. She had been practically living in the library considering how much her house's common room made her want to vomit. Perhaps getting out for a bit wouldn't be so bad.

"I'll think about it."

* * *

Hermione poked at her food for a bit. The mundane drone of meaningless conversation flitted about around her. Quidditch this, and who caught who in broom closet that, and did you hear about 'gasp' this and so one and so forth. It took nearly all her energy not to shove a fork in her eye. Didn't these people understand they were in the middle of a war? Stupid imbeciles. Prattling on about the most idiotics issues when a dark lord was wreaking havoc upon the wizarding world.

"Constant Vigilance!" Moody's barked quote came barreling to mind.

"Oy, look who's back," the male voice of Edmund Pratly stated.

"Wondered when he show up again, Slughorn looks like he's about piss his pants with joy," another male said with a snicker.

"Don't be crass Diggory," Abbott responded hotly.

"What in Merlin's name is everyone going on about," Hermione whispered to her friend.

"Tom Riddle," and that nearly made her choke on her pumpkin juice. "It seems he's here to help Slughorn for a few days, He'll probably be in class tomorrow," Venecia finished with a dreamy smile on her face.

Slowly Hermione looked over the teacher's table and low and behold, a young man, his dark perfectly groomed hair, tailored suit and pale skin was talking with Professor Slughorn.

For someone who is so horrifically homicidal, he is absolutely way too delicious to the eye.

Yes, and there are some that would say the same of us Love. The thought chuckled darkly. She merely snuffed it out. She had done her damn hardest to be quite unremarkably average to the eye.

She gazed over Riddle, his cheekbones were chiseled, his lips not too full nor too thin, his jaw was angled just right, and she imagined if she were standing closer, his eyes would show the prettiest shade of gray. Not that there would be much behind those pretty eyes.

"He is most handsome don't you think?" Venecia's voice shook her out of her staring.

She stared back down at her food, going back to poking it.

"It would seem so," she replied simply.

Constant vigilance it is then.

* * *

"Expelliarmus," she yelled watching the red jet barely hit the dummy.

"Yes, very good!" Steward clapped. "You're getting better.

"Well those books you lent me were most helpful," she replied bashfully, obviously fake.

"You seem to be connecting to your magic better, what did you make of the magical core bit?" He asked as they walked back up to his office.

"It was interesting I guess," she stated with a shrug. "Obviously I'm not a squib, but I couldn't be more than a class two core. Even though I've managed to connect to my magic, it's still pretty weak and considering my age, I'd say it's safe to say that it's not going to get much stronger." She finished as she sat down.

"You're aptitude for theoretical knowledge is quite impressive, you would make an excellent researcher. The Ministry, I believe, is almost always short-staffed in that department," he said as he began to make some tea.

"Yes, I'd imagine so, considering only mudbloods and squibs are usually affiliated with that department," she responded bitterly, noticing his eyes flashed at the term 'mudblood.'

"Which brings me to a question Miss Granger, if you don't mind." He asked pouring himself a cup. "Tea?"

"Sure, two sugars if you don't mind, and of course Professor," she replied taking the cup from him.

She watched as he settled back into his chair, regarding her for a moment.

"You don't really seem the type to fall into such prejudices," he began. "Your house is quite sympathetic to the muggleborns' plight. Especially with Grindelwald and his agenda on the loose."

Hermione sat and watched her tea for a bit. She was a bit unprepared for this conversation, considering it had nothing to do with the reason she was here.

"With all due respect Sir, I don't really know why you seem so interested?"

He regarded her for a moment and then suddenly laughed. And by god, it was beautiful. His eyes lit up, the way he smiled and even the sounds coming from his mouth made her flush some.

"Miss Granger, of course I'm interested," he started with a wide grin. "You're like this puzzle, " he continued leaning forward his smile twisting ever so slightly to something darker, something much darker. "And how I do enjoy putting them together," he finished his words washing over her, sending tingles down her spine, a heat rushing through her veins.

"Want to play a game Mother? You know how much I enjoy these little play sessions with you."

The memory came flooding back, the blood, screams, urine, bones cracking, laughing, begging and blood again. It always came back to blood.

"Blood demands blood."

She couldn't help but feel the tightness in her throat. Professor Steward was much too interested in her. She needed to stop this, she needed to avert his attentions elsewhere.

"Well, um, I'd-" she stumbled out, hoping to placate him. "I'm flattered you think I'm interesting," she said forcing herself to blush. Immediately he leaned back, a quick flit of disappointment flashed in his eyes before he regained his composure. "But in answer to your question. I say mudblood simply because that is what most people consider them to be, even if it's not a term used in civilized conversation. That being said, a person should not be faulted by who they were born to, it's not as if they asked to be." She finished taking a sip.

"Some would argue that muggleborns are a detriment to Wizarding Society, their ties to the muggle world could cause irreversible damage," he prodded lightly.

And while she did understand where he was coming from, it was quite a tight line to walk.

"People are always afraid of that of which they cannot understand, and unfortunately that is a trait that muggles and wizards alike share regardless of whether they would like to admit it or not," she quipped. "All these Slytherins droning on about how mudbloods are stealing magic is ludicrous. One cannot simply steal magic. That's not how it works. One is born with magic or one is not." She responded and he quickly raised an eyebrow.

"Quite defensive of them despite calling them a slur, I don't think they would appreciate it very much," he said with a smirk. "Anyhow," he continued with a wave. "I have to disagree, while I do agree that one cannot be faulted for their blood status, it is simply logic. A muggleborn's magic is a more diluted version of purebloods, diluted with muggleblood that is. I find myself feeling sympathy for the ones that are subjected to lesser magic simply because it is not their fault. But alas, no one ever said the world was fair." He finished with a sigh.

Hermione could feel herself getting angry. Bigoted, prejudice, sexy bastard.

"With all due respect sir," she began tightly. "Just as a gun doesn't care who pulls the trigger, magic doesn't care the blood running through the host's veins, not matter how 'dirty' the blood might be," she spat.

For fucks sake, get a fucking grip on yourself.

He simply eyed her for a moment, not seemingly fazed by her outburst.

"Just because you so desperately want to believe that magic knows of no prejudice, doesn't make it so Miss Granger. And while I completely disagree with Grindelwald's method of execution, I find myself agreeing with his ideals. To face reality of one's situation is never an easy task, take yourself for consideration," he stated leaning forward, much to close. "you're obviously smart, and hardworking, but alas your magic is weak. It doesn't work for you properly. Which is why your use of 'mudblood' fascinates me so, considering it's obvious you're muggleborn." he finished his eyes dark and curious.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid girl!

Something in her snapped, something she tried to desperately keep shoved down. But her mouth wasn't listening, only moving to it's own accord.

"Someone a long time ago gave me some advice," she spoke despite the screaming protest in her head.

"And that was what exactly," his voice smooth, like velvet.

And blood rushed to her ears, she felt that familiar dark stirring up in her. The force that could not be contained, not truly.

"Never deny what you are, then no one can use it against you." her voice was dark, different than the light airy tone she was accustomed to having.

His eyes darkened even more so, his gaze swept over her face, as if he was properly seeing her for the first time. Alarm bells went off in her head, but she could not break what was transpiring between them. His magic seemed to caress her, it was dark, it was powerful and yet it was teasing her, as if saying "do you want to play with me?"

And she really really did.

Her thighs clenched together, wetness soaking her knickers. She wanted him. Despite all rationale, despite how utterly dangerous it was. She wanted him.

"Well Miss Granger, you are a puzzle I most definitely look forward to solving," he replied in a husky tone.

Adjusting her overly large glasses she simply got her coursework out.

"In all honesty Professor," she practically purred. "I haven't the slightest clue as to what you're talking about."

"Of course," he replied darkly as she began reading from her textbook and he grading parchment rolls.

So much for averting his attention elsewhere.

* * *

There you have it! Let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

So, I've been on a roll today. Here's another chapter!

* * *

 _I watch the girl struggle against the magic tying her to the bed. She starts screaming, as if anyone can hear. We are alone. No one can hear and no one is coming._

 _"You Bitch!" Parkinson_ _screeches_ _. "What the fuck are you doing!"_

 _The IV attached to her arm, the thick red substance pumping in her veins._

 _"Well I thought it was rather obvious Pansy," I drawl with a smirk tinkering with the blood bag. "You did take a rather nasty cutting hex to the leg, I'm merely doing my good Samaritan duty by patching you up." I finish with a laugh._

 _Her gaze flits to the bag and her eyes go wide._

 _"After all, being the only mudblood" I spit out the name in disgust "in Slytherin has gotten to be rather lonely." I continue before leaning down to her face taking in pride how fearful she gazes at me. "Now there can be two of us," I finish with a dark smile._

 _Immediately she thrashes against the invisible bonds on her body._

 _"You're insane," she screams. "You insane psychotic Bitch!" she wails._

 _The room echoes with my backhand, her cheek reddened by the blow, blood leaking down her chin before I swiftly pin my hands against her own, crawling on top of her. My face right above her, her eyes going frantic with fear._

 _"No Pansy," I breathe out darkly. "I'm not insane, I'm angry." I say gritting my teeth together. "You and your little ragtag group of_ _blood purist_ _can rot in hell. If I'm so fucking weak, if my worthless blood has dirtied up my magic, weakened it, then how do you explain when I nearly took off your fucking leg earlier, and I didn't even have to use a fucking wand," I spit out._

 _I laugh as she begins to cry, violently sobbing as she watches my 'dirty' blood entering her veins._

 _"In all fairness," I say as I get off her. "I did warn you," I finish with a sadistic grin._

...

Hermione roped the tie around her neck.

 _Dirty._

Over.

 _Worthless._

Around.

 _Mudblood._

Under.

 _Mudblood._

Goddamnit, it just wouldn't go right.

Again.

 _Mudblood._

Over.

 _Filth._

Around.

 _Disgusting._

Under.

 _ **Freak.**_

Immediately she throws the tie across the room before sliding down the stone wall. She can still hear Pansy's screeching in her ears, the blood dripping down the IV, the taunting and laughing of her mother as she stomped on her arm, the beatings.

The blood.

Blood demands blood.

 _Having a meltdown are we My Dear._ The voice is taunting and Hermione screams, pulling her hair, kicking the ground. For once she just wanted it to STOP. All of it, the memories, the magic, the darkness, and by god the _**blood.**_

Taking deep breaths, she focuses on the place her Godfather helped her to create, that beautiful nothingness, numb to the outside world, numb to her memories, numb to the dark desires that threaten to tear its way out. And after what seemed like an eternity, she realized she was back in control. Quickly standing up, she smoothed her uniform, retrieved her tie and finished getting ready.

 _"You cannot contain this Hermione. It's too dark, too powerful."_

Her Godfather's words come crashing into her and determination filled her.

 _"Watch me." Was her snarled reply._

...

"It's going to be a beautiful day," Venecia exclaimed as she sat down and immediately started to butter her toast.

"And pray tell why is that," Hermione replied sipping her coffee.

Her friend was practically buzzing with delight.

"She's just excited about seeing Riddle is all," Abbott responded with a roll of her eyes. "Though I guess I can't blame her, he really is something to look at," she finished with a smile.

"Oh Hermione, he's absolutely brilliant!" She nearly squealed. "He's always so helpful in class, and so nice!" She finished with a sigh.

Hermione nearly snorted.

 _I'm sure he is._

"Can't wait," was her lame reply. She honestly didn't know what else to say. But if Riddle was used to girls fawning over him, maybe she should just act like a silly schoolgirl in his presence just to be done with it. She took a large bite of eggs, stuffing them in her mouth. She really was quite hungry.

"Merlin's beard Hermione! Would you slow down?" Abbott voiced. "Stuffing your mouth like that is most unattractive. You've even gotten Pletchly staring at you." She finished.

And sure enough, Hermione looked up and saw the wretched woman crinkling her nose in disgust before swiftly standing up and began walking straight towards their table.

"You've got to be joking," Hermione said under her breath.

"Miss Granger," the woman addressed her crisply. "Do you always make it a habit to stuff your mouth like an unrefined mutt?"

"Pardon Professor, but aren't all mutts unrefined?" Hermione asked innocently to which half of her housemates gasped while the rest erupted into laughter.

Pletchly's eyes narrowed, her face contorted into the most unattractive expression.

"Silence!" She screeched. "Ten points from Hufflepuff for your cheek and detention." She nearly yelled before leaning down some. "You will meet me in my classroom on Friday at 6pm no exceptions." She finished tightly before turning and swiftly walking away.

"Holy Circe Hermione! Have you gone mental!" Abbott whispered.

"Well, I for one rather thought it entertaining," Venecia interjected with a laugh. "Come on, I want to get the best seats for Potions," She finished grabbing Hermione's hand and all but dragged her out.

...

Venecia started prepping the cauldron while Hermione gathered the ingredients. She finally understood what all the fuss concerning Riddle was about. He was nice, social and a complete flirt. Every female seemed to swoon if he even breathed in their direction. It was ridiculous to be honest.

As she picked what she needed from the cupboard she could feel him behind her.

"Miss Granger is it?"

 _Well here goes nothing._

Dropping the container in her hand she pretended to be frazzled and immediately went to bend over only to have him stop her.

"Allow me," he said warmly before bending down picking up the contents and handing them to her.

His hand lingered a moment longer than what she deemed necessary.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to startle you" he said with a disarming smile.

She ducked her head and fiddled with her glasses, acting nervous.

"It's OK," she began forcing herself to flush slightly. "I always have been rather clumsy" she finished shuffling her feet awkwardly.

He looked at her, and for the first time she _really_ looked at him. He rather was quite handsome, His smile flashing his brilliant set of white teeth. Not that the smile reached his eyes of course.

"I'm sure you're nothing of the sort, I did take you by surprise." he replied sweetly.

"Well, um, yes-" she stuttered looking down, making sure he caught her blush.

He laughed some, and quickly she looked up catching his gaze. His arrogant smile was plastered on his handsome face. She had a sudden urge to disfigure him.

 _Then your face will look like what's underneath that pretty little facade of yours. Twisted and ugly._

She only blushed more before mumbling about needing to get to her seat. Venecia's eyes practically lit up like a fairy seeing their encounter.

"I told you he is quite the catch," she giggled lowly.

Hermione looked over and watched him praise Miss Knott.

"Yes, I suppose he is."

They quickly got to work, Hermione cutting the ingredients.

Technically she knew the root needed to be crushed, but most people wouldn't know that. As she sliced it, Venecia promptly slapped her hand.

"Oh Hermione, you're doing it all wrong" Venecia exclaimed taking the root. Well apparently most aside from her friend.

"And what would be the proper way to prepare the root Miss Parks," Riddle voiced behind them.

"It needs to be crushed Sir," Venecia spoke sweetly.

Riddle flashed her a dazzling smile, efficiently causing her to damn near melt.

"Very good Miss Parks," he said warmly. "It seems you have quite the eye for Potions, I look forward to seeing you excel in this class," he finished brightly.

"Yes, thank you Sir," she squeaked out blushing.

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes.

"It seems Miss Granger that you're lucky to have such a talented partner," he said.

Venecia nearly swooned.

"Of course Sir," she replied tightly.

"Do take care in listening to her advice," he continued as he squeezed Venecia's shoulder lightly.

Her friend nearly fainted. Hermione grumbled to her herself.

"Absolutely Sir" she replied this time overly sweet, cheeks red.

She noticed this time, the slight curl of his smirk, the way he regarded her as a simpering fool, he quickly turned and began helping the others.

Tom Riddle had already lost interest.

 _Thank God._

…

"He is positively dreamy" Venecia exclaimed falling against the sofa in the common room. "I only wish he were still a student then I could have joined Rosenburg's club."

Hermione looked at her friend before taking out one of Steward's assigned books.

"Club?"

"Riddle's fan club," Abbott spoke.

She nearly broke into hysterics.

"Riddle had a fan club?" she asked humored.

"Oh yes, Rosenburg was president of it. It was quite the social gathering. She was practically in love with him. I believe they dated for a short while." Venecia claimed.

She had a hard time picturing Riddle as the dating type. I wonder if he hexed her for not straightening out his ties.

"That's a little extreme," she said with a laugh.

"Tell me about it," Abbott said. "But he was regarded as a Slytherin God. Every girl wanted to be hanging off his arm."

"Wants," Venecia corrected. "He is still quite the bachelor," her friend finished.

Hermione wondered how she could be surrounded by such idiots. Then again, how could they possibly know that there was nothing behind those pretty gray eyes, nothing except violence and darkness.

 _Just like us Darling._ The thought was mocking and vicious.

"Well, as handsome as he is, his fan club can keep him. I'm much too busy with all this coursework to be bothered by boys" She replied nonchalantly.

"You should lighten up Hermione, get yourself a boyfriend" Venecia replied. "Life's too short to keep your head stuck in a book."

Her friend was trying to help. Not that it mattered.

" _You're so beautiful" she spoke caressing her side._

The memory made her stomach clench.

"There was someone once," Hermione admitted.

"Oh what happened?" Venecia's voice was much too inquisitive.

Those glassy vacant eyes stared at her.

Vacant.

Because she was gone. And it was her fault.

"Dead." she spoke flatly. "I'm off to library," she stated before stuffing her book in her bag.

The common room was quiet as she exited.

…

"Is everything OK?" Black's voice broke through the momentary silence.

No. She was not OK. There's nothing about this entire fucked up situation that was remotely OK.

"Fine, just a little overwhelmed is all," she said instead, smiling softly.

He didn't look convinced.

"Look Hermione," he whispered before grabbing her hand across the table. "You can talk to me, you know," he said.

It was something in his eyes, something kind and it nearly knocked her over. Hermione knew a liar when she saw one, it came with the territory. And yet, there was nothing false in Alphard. He was genuinely kind, not at all like the rest of his family. And suddenly she understood, he didn't belong in his house, in his family, just like herself.

"My family didn't understand me," she began despite her better judgment. "It seems no matter what I do, I'm always fighting to be accepted. Not accepted by my family because of magic, not accepted by this world because of my blood. I lose no matter what I do," she finished before taking her hand back and started to pack her bag up.

She didnt' want to look in his eyes, she didn't want to see pity. She didn't want to see-

Understanding. That was what was in there. So much fucking understanding. He simply got up and took her hand again. His skin was soft.

"Unsupportive family, you're talking to the poster child of that," he said with a grin and she laughed some.

"You never fail to surprise me Black," she said quietly.

"Alphard, call me Alphard," he said squeezing her hand.

She knew that he was interested, and not in a platonic way. It was something she could not encourage. She knew better than to form any attachments here, no matter how much she longed for it.

"You really are a great friend," she said with a smile watching his falter some.

Disappointment. She should be use this now.

"Yeah, I'm the best I know," he said with a cocky grin, recovering.

"Mr. Black, Miss Granger," a sharp voice interrupted. She turned and saw a very perturbed Steward.

His eyes, dark, and cold stared at the two of them. Alphard promptly dropped her hand.

"You are aware it is well past curfew," he said icily.

"The fault is mine, Sir." Alphard said smoothly. "Miss Granger was merely helping me with an assignment and we lost track of time," he finished.

"It matters not," he said coldly. "Detention both of you," and Hermione nearly groaned aloud. "Mr. Black you will assist me tomorrow night at 7. And you Miss Granger, ever the studious one, it just so happens I need help grading rolls of parchment. And since you so clearly love helping others, you can assist me tonight," he said mockingly.

"You can't be serious Sir," she said before thinking. "I mean, it's nearly 11 o' clock. I was just about to turn in," she back peddled.

"I do not make a habit of joking Miss Granger," He said sharply. "Mr Black, I trust you know your way to the dungeons, Miss Granger, follow me," he said before turning on his heels.

'Sorry' Alphard mouthed to her, offering a small apologetic smile before leaving.

Just fucking great. And with that thought she followed the Professor to his office.

…

"Miss Granger, do you have any idea how inappropriate it was to be caught after hours in an abandoned library with a young man?" He asked sharply before dropping a stack of rolls on her desk.

"About as inappropriate being in an abandoned office with a male teacher well at 11 o'clock at night," she snickered under her breath.

Hands slammed down on the desk. If he was trying to intimidate her, it wasn't going to work.

His eyes glowered down on her, as if trying to assert his dominance.

"Mr Black clearly has an interest in you Miss Granger, one I should not have to remind you is dangerous for him," he said lowly. "Me on the other hand, have no interest in courting a child," he spat out in a condensing tone.

Anger burned through her. Of course he would have no interest, it still humiliated all the same.

"Apologies Professor, of course, too magically inept to be considered by you," she said in return darkly.

"Do insult me Miss Granger," he said. "Begin grading," he commanded before returning to his desk.

She could feel his eyes on her, overpowering and heavy. So she ignored him, and began to grade.

After five rolls in, she nearly snorted. Apparently all her classmates were idiots.

"How do you stand it," she finally said staring at the offending parchment roll.

"Whatever do you mean?" He asked without looking up, clearly still irritated.

"Never mind," she said instead. "I'm done, may I be excuse."

He ignored her for a moment before pointing at the door.

"You may," he said in a clipped tone. And she immediately gathered her bag and walked to the door. "Miss Granger," he called and she stilled her hand on the knob hearing a rustle behind her.

He was close, too fucking close, she could smell his cologne, it was earthy, rustic and intoxicating. He placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Please know I do this for your own good," he said softly before turning her towards him. "I confess finding you with Black was most disconcerting. I may have overreacted, I believe you are not the type of young woman to indulge in anything inappropriate with young men, but the Blacks can be very persuasive. I do not want to see you hurt," he finished.

It was insulting in a way. As if she was pure. She knew she needed to lower her eyes, show submission. She knew she needed to thank him for his concern and promise to never be in the situation again.

But she did none of those things.

"With all due respect Sir, what transpires between Black and I is none of your business," she says sharply. "I can handle myself, I've been doing for a long time," she finished as she watched his eyes turn dark. Lust? Or simply Anger?

She didn't know.

"Be careful Miss Granger, the Black family is not one known to be very tolerant, especially considering your blood status," he finished.

It always came back to blood.

 _Perhaps we should show him how we tolerate blood supremacists._ The voice cackled. It was tempting.

"I will keep that in mind Professor," she said instead, before opening the door and rushing towards her room.

She could still feel his eyes burning into her.

* * *

What do you think so far?


	5. Chapter 5

Well, another day another chapter. Sorry it's been a while, but you know, life gets in the way. I really hope you like this chapter! So enjoy! Also, thank you to all of you that have reviewed this story so far! While I don't write for the reviews, it certainly helps with momentum. I always truly love to hear your feedback!

* * *

"Hermione," Venecia's voice is soft, hushed. "Why don't you talk about your parents?"

Her mother's face, cruel eyes and twisted smile immediately comes to mind. _"Disgusting freak!"_ The woman's callous voice permeates through her thoughts. _"Unnatural child"_ the memory mocks her. It's insidious, poisoning her senses and she can feel her hatred bubbling just beneath the surface. _**Shhh Love.**_ The voice soothes her, and suddenly she's being slammed with her mother's disfigured, bloodied face, teeth missing and tongue bitten off.

"There's not much to say really, they were unfortunately caught in the cross hairs of a battle. My parents were neutral regarding Grindelwald, they didn't support him persay, but also didn't oppose him either." She stated without looking up.

"What about the boy?"

"Boy? What boy?"

She honestly had no clue what Venecia was going on about now.

"You know, the one you loved," the girl gently prodded.

Immediately vivid green eyes filled her slightly fractured mind. Her dark red hair, pale skin, the way her skin felt against her own. It was not love, but it was the closest thing to love she had ever known or felt.

It was with her, that she could truly be free, not hide her own ugliness that desperately wanted out. There was nothing but acceptance with her.

Not that it matters now. None of it mattered now.

"Moira," she whispered, keeping her eyes downcast. "Her name was Moira."

Venecia nearly sputtered. "Oh, I didn't realize…"

The insinuation was not lost on her. She nearly rolled her eyes. Typical.

"I'm not a homosexual Venecia," she said almost sharply, this time looking the girl in the eye. "Moira was just, different. And mind you, I'd have no problem accepting that about myself if it were the case," she finished firmly.

Venecia seemed to relax somewhat. And then a twinkle lit up her eyes as she leaned forward.

"So," she implored. "What was it like?"

Cue eye rolling.

"For God's sake Venecia, just finish your essay already," Hermione snips to which the girl slumps back pouting.

She's kind of cute when pouting, Hermione can't help but think.

"Well, maybe I should be inquiring about Black. All those late night study sessions and all," Venecia states with a mischievous smile.

"Ugh, not you as well" Hermione groaned. "I swear to Merlin, just because some boy might have a fancy for me, doesn't mean I'm going to find myself falling into his bed," she spits out.

"Wait, who else knows?"

She could still feel the way Steward's magic practically tried to mauhl her. His rage was confusing. He had absolutely no reason to be possessive or have any interest in her at all for that matter.

"Steward caught us returning to our dorms. And before you ask it, no just no. Nothing happened. We talked and lost track of time. We both received detention for the infraction." She finished irritatingly.

Venecia looked perplexed for a moment.

"Out with it," Hermione stated. "I know that look," she finished with a sigh.

"Black is handsome, cultured and seems different than the other Slytherins, but" she stopped momentarily, her expression one of concern. "But he's still a Black Hermione, his family is still quite dark and dangerous. They are known Grindelwald supporters, they _**hate**_ muggle borns and muggles. Black may be different, but it won't matter if his father's wand is pressed to his neck, I just don't want to see you hurt." She finished softly.

It was hilarious, the conversation to Hermione. As if she hadn't heard that kind of prejudice her whole life. In the end, it always came down to blood. Hermione knew exactly what the Black's were capable of, she could still see Bellatrix's rotten teeth as she gleefully sang while tearing the fingernails off some poor muggle girls hands.

"Venecia," she started then closed her book. "I know how the Black family operates. Alphard is only a friend. Regardless of his intentions or feelings towards me, I would never put him in that kind of position, or myself for that matter," she continued. " Look, I promise you, I'm fine. Things truly are strictly platonic between us,"she finished.

"I know-" suddenly Venecia's face blossomed into a full blush, and immediately she smoothed and adjusted her hair. Just as Hermione was about to turn to see what on Earth her friend was obsessing over-

"Miss Parks," his voice was warm, inviting with just the right amount of seductive undertones. It made her want to vomit. She'd recognize that bastard's voice from anywhere.

"Mr. Riddle, how are you" and just like that. Venecia turned into a simpering, lovesick schoolgirl.

"Wonderful, I've been looking for you actually," he said, his voice like honey. Hermione reframed from rolling her eyes.

"Oh, well, I uh," she sputtered out.

"Slughorn is quite impressed with your potion skills, he feels that you have potential, and I find myself in total agreement," he lavished upon her, ensuing more blushing. " He is formally inviting you to his slug club," he finished flashing her a smile.

" Oh my! Well of course I accept," she stated enthusiastically.

" Congratulations," Hermione said quietly with a small smile, trying to appear humble.

" Yes, congratulations are definitely in order. We meet tomorrow at 6, I look forward to seeing you there," he said. Venecia beamed.

" Of course, I'm just so honored, I can hardly believe this!" She all but gushed.

"Well ladies, I must be on my way," he said before turning towards Hermione. "Miss Granger, I look forward to seeing you in class," he finished with a warm smile, that of course didn't reach his eyes.

"Likewise," she said flatly before realizing it. His eyes flashed dangerously. _Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._ "Potions is infinitely better when you're there," she said quickly bringing up a blush, lowering her eyes, as if intimidated by his sheer masculinity and sexual prowess.

She peered upwards through her lashes. He didn't seem convinced. _Goddamnit!_ Suddenly, his smiled so largely it looked positively predatory. Or maybe it was her paranoia.

"Perhaps I could be of assistance to you, I know that you struggle with that particular class." He stated challengingly. _Fuck!_ She had to fix this, and quick.

"You're very kind," her voice soft and humble. "But I have already found assistance, though I appreciate your concern Sir," she finished with a small blush looking down at her hands.

"Oh, who?"

Damn it Venecia!

"Is it Black?" She continued to probe.

And just like that, Hermione could feel her panic rising and promptly kicked Venecia under the table. Earning a loud "Oww!" and swift "Hush" from the librarian.

"Black, as is in Alphard Black? I had no idea you two were close," Riddle says curiously.

Her friend might as well served Alphard's death sentence.

"Um, no." She faltered out. "A girl from Ravenclaw is helping me," she finished while toying with her hands ignoring how her friend was pouting.

He seemed to mull over it some.

"Anyhow, I'm glad you sought out assistance Miss Granger," he says smiling brightly. "Well Ladies, I must be off," he said before grabbing Venecia's hand. "Once again, congratulations, I look forward to seeing you at the next SlugClub's party. Perhaps you'll save a dance for me?" He finished flirtatiously with a wink.

Her friend nearly swooned on the spot. _Disgusting._

"Of-f course," she stammered out.

He swiftly said his goodbyes and Venecia fell back into her chair fanning herself.

"Merlin, he's got to be the most handsome man I've ever laid eyes on. Could you imagine being his girlfriend! I bet he's so romantic," she swooned dreamily.

 _I highly doubt that. He'd probably crucio you till you soiled yourself just for tying his tie wrong._

"He is rather attractive," she said instead. At least that part is true.

Until he shows his true face.

* * *

" _Granger, right?"_

 _Looking up from my book, I see a girl, another first year. Her long, dark red hair, striking green eyes and a fair complexion. I've seen her before hanging around Malfoy. The two look thick as thieves._

" _Yeah," I mumble not meeting her gaze._

 _Her eyes are cold, unfeeling. It's rather unsettling._

" _Rather interesting book you have there," she says emotionless nodding to the rather large tome in my hands. It's not too terribly dark, but dark enough to land itself in the restricted section._

" _I guess, a little boring," I simply say to which she smirks some._

" _Boring how," her conversation is stilted, as if she hasn't had proper socialization with people her own age. Though I'm in no position to judge considering my background._

" _I guess, I just assumed there'd be, I don't know, more," I say clumsily._

 _Suddenly she sits down beside me, her body far too close to my own, and leans into my ear._

" _You don't have to be afraid you know," she whispers with a strange smile._

" _What?" The girl is definitely strange and unsettling._

" _You know, of your magic," she practically purrs. "That kind of magic is rare, it's special," she says with a gleam._

 _A cold dread begins to uncoil inside of me, she couldn't possibly know! How could she know!_

" _And what could you possibly know about my magic," I hiss out lowly._

 _Her grin is wicked, something dark in her eyes._

" _My friend told me," she says._

 _Suddenly something dark, and powerful begins to fill the room. I don't know what it is, but it's suffocating. Whatever it is, it seems to be coming from her. She then pulls a tattered book from her bag, holding it close._

" _Would you like to meet him?" She asks with a smirk holding the book out to me._

 _Inscribed on the back is Tom Marvolo Riddle._

" _I'm sorry, but who are you?" I ask carefully feeling the leather under my fingertips._

" _Potter," she breathes out. "Moira Potter."_

 _What? So she was the elusive twin sister of Gryffindor's Golden Boy. The book begins to practically buzz in my hands. An intoxicating essence seemed to seep from it into my skin. It felt evil. But I can't help the feeling, if this is what evil feels like, then by my own definition, wouldn't I be evil?_

" _We are different, you and I," Moira breathes into my ear. "A different breed of magic," she continues her eyes lit._

" _There's something not right with this book," I whisper. "Something bad," I finish._

 _And she looks at me with the strangest expression on her doll like face._

" _People always fear what they cannot understand or explain," she breathes. "But you would know all about that wouldn't you, Granger?"_

The memory slammed into her with such force, it nearly takes her breath away. Yes, it seems, she would know all about that.

* * *

Hermione picked at her fingernails as Pletchly droned on and on about simply laundering spells. And the importance of having her husband's attire cleaned and pressed at all times.

"Humph, well I for one will have no need of this in the future," Carmott, a Slytherin, voiced snidely.

"Oh, however not?"

Venecia, bless her soul. She was just the epitome of innocence. She was definitely a Hufflepuff through and through.

"Because I'm going to marry into a rich Pureblood family and the house elves will handle all the housework obviously," the girl retorted as if Venecia was stupid.

"Be that as it may, there are some who have grave need of these charms if they have any hope of attracting a decent wizard," Pletchly interjected while looking pointedly at Hermione.

She gripped the edge of her desk hard at the snickers around her.

"Right, because apparently I'm completely worthless without a male," she mumbled.

"What was that Miss Granger? Please do speak up," Pletchly retorted sharply.

" Of course you're right," she replied sweetly, wanting to choke on her own words.

"Ladies, always remember that your priority should always be to present your husband in a favorable light. He will work hard so make sure your estate is always well maintained, and do not pester him with your complaints. If you please him, he may even increase your allowance or allow you a separate vault of your own," Pletchly continued.

Oh imagine that, a vault of her own. She nearly snickered.

" But do remember to always let your husband handle your financial affairs, the men are much better suited for that than we women are," she finished sternly.

God, she hated this class.

"Professor?" Venecia's sweet voice piped up.

"Yes, Miss Parks?"

"What if I wanted to earn money of my own?"

Hushed voices in indignation broke out.

"Girls, settle down," Pletchly stated sharply. "Of course there's nothing wrong with you having a part time occupation. Just be sure to clear it with your husband. In the end, it's his decision."

Venecia, to Hermione's disappointment, positively beamed at that.

"I want a 3 scrolls on the importance of a clean and tidy home by the start of tomorrow's class, you're dismissed."

"A few of us girls are headed to the quidditch pitch to watch the boys practice. You should come with us," her friend said while gathering her books.

The idea with being surrounded by a bunch of squealing, simpering girls fawning all over a bunch of sweaty, pigheaded boys was revolting. She'd rather eat glass than subject herself to that.

"Thanks for the invite, but I told Alphard I'd meet him in the library right after class."

"Ohhh, so it's Alphard now," Venecia practically squealed in delight.

"Knock it off, I told you it isn't like that," Hermione huffed as they made their way into the crowded hallway.

"That's what they all say," Venecia drawled. " Have fun on your study date," she finished before skipping away.

"I told you, it's not a date!" She yelled at Venecia's back.

" If you say so," she giggled.

Honestly, the nerve. She just shook her head.

"What's not a date?"

She nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Merlin's Beard Alphard," she exclaimed to his mischievous smile. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that," she finished.

He merely continued to smile.

"So…" he drawled, looking at her expectantly.

Date. Jesus. She was going to kill her.

"Nothing, Venecia's just being, well Venecia," she shrugged. "Riddle complimented her a few days ago and now it's turned her into a romantic," She finished as they made their way to the library, not missing him frown slightly.

Surely he couldn't be jealous? Well, Venecia was a beautiful girl, so she assumed it possible, it just never occurred to her that he might fancy her friend.

"What is it?" She asked quietly.

"You should tell your friend to be careful," he said in a hushed tone. "I hear that Riddle has taken an interest in her, and well to be frank with you, Miss Parks seems like a sweet girl, I'd just hate to," he faltered. "I don't know, just tell her to be careful," he finished with a strange look in his eye.

"Duly noted," She finally replied.

They walked in silence till the reached the library. Just as she went to push the door, his hand grasped her shoulder.

"What's wrong?" She asked looking at him, his face still wearing that same strange expression.

"You didn't even ask why I would warn your friend from Riddle."

He was suspicious. And he had reason to be. Riddle was nothing but a gentleman. He was favored and loved by all. Alphard's warning should have caused her to be confused. She'd have to be more careful in the future.

"Well, to be honest," she said turning towards him. "I don't really know him, you were in the same house, so you would know better than me, and really," she continued while adjusting her oversized glasses. "All that talent and charisma is just kind of annoying."

He just peered at her for a moment before shaking his head.

"You really are the strangest Hufflepuff I have ever met," he said with a smile.

 _Oh Alphard, you haven't the slightest clue._

* * *

There you have it! A little more of Hermione's past is revealed. Until next time!


	6. Chapter 6

Well another chapter. Just a warning, things are only going to get darker from here on out. Enjoy!

* * *

...

" _What the fuck is wrong with you?" Potter hissed, his voice full with indignation._

" _Oh please, as if you're any better," Moira huffed while looking at her nails before her brother grabbed her forearm, forcefully pulling her to the side of the room._

" _Look, I don't know what game your playing Sister, but best believe if you touch one hair-_

" _Or you'll do what exactly," I drawled stepping out of the shadows._

" _Stay out of this Granger, this has nothing to do with you," he spits out at me._

 _My mouth twists into a smirk as I lazily twirl my wand._

" _You know Potter, you're little girlfriend took something that didn't belong to her. My friend merely wants it back," I say smoothly watching Moira's face twist into a sadistic grin._

" _Do tell her to return what is mine," she practically purrs at him before grabbing his neck forcing him down towards her. "Or I'm afraid of what she may force me to do," she spoke seductively._

 _Potter stays quiet, his eyes wide and breathing heavily._

" _Tsk, Tsk, dear Brother of mine," she whispers._

" _Perhaps he's due a demonstration," I interject feeling my magic start to buzz._

 _Suddenly her wand is out, digging into his chest and whispering 'crucio' before he can react._

 _He immediately falls to the ground, thrashing and screaming. Her face lights up with glee, refusing to lift the curse._

" _You know, Harry, you really shouldn't test me," she says circling him. "I'm only doing this because you've forced my hand," she continues before falling to her knees effectively straddling him. "But do scream a little louder for me love," she whispers into his ear while amping the effects of her curse._

 _And he does. He screams until his throat is raw, spitting out blood from tearing into his tongue, his body twitching and spasming_ _uncontrollably and finally he begins to beg._

" _You should stop, if you carry on much longer, you'll destroy that pretty little head of his," I say while taking a seat._

 _She frowns some._

" _Well, we can't have that," she states before finally lifting the curse, and caresses his face. He recoils from her touch and leans over and vomits up blood._

" _Dddd..don't tttt..touch me," he stutters, his voice hoarse._

" _You know, you really shouldn't speak," she says patting him on the cheek despite his obvious revulsion. "Your vocal cords must be raw and bleeding with all the screaming and such," she says in a patronizing tone._

" _I hate you," he hisses out._

 _Immediately her eyes go dark, dangerously so. He's struck a nerve it would seem. It's rather odd, to be honest, for Moira to be caring about it at all._

 _She slaps him. Hard. The sound cracks across the room before she gets up and turns her back to him._

" _Get out," she whispers menacingly. "Now!" she screams._

 _He staggers to a standing position, clearly having a hard time. I don't know why I suddenly have pity, it's not as if he and I are friends. But his muscle spasms and bleeding tongue makes my pity worse, so I quietly run after him._

" _Potter,"_

 _He slowly turns to me, opening his mouth but closing it quickly._

" _Here," I say tossing a small vial to him. "It'll help with the pain," I continue. He just stares at me and the vial warily. "Despite what you may think, Moira would skin me alive if I actually tried to kill you, so stop over-analyzing and just take the damn potion."_

 _He finally nods and stumbles away down the dark corridor._

 _As I watch his retreating form, I can hear Moira screaming but more importantly, I can feel her coming undone. Her magic is spiraling out of control. This is something I cannot fix, there's only one person in the world that can help. And that person is trapped in a book which so happens to be in possession of Ginny Weasley, the little swot. Why that girl would want to be anywhere near that diary again was beyond me._

 _Perhaps it was time to handle this on my own, after all, Moira really was in no condition to control herself. No, this required a bit more finesse._

* * *

...

Images of a screaming Ginny Weasley filled her thoughts, as she soaked in the hot bath. Her fair skin, stained with blood, mangled leg and broken ribs. It wasn't personal, it was necessary. Weasley stole something valuable, something she had no right to take, and Moira had been about to lose her damn mind. If she had allowed her friend to hunt the stupid girl, there wouldn't have been enough pieces left for a proper burial.

Moira had become unhinged and stupid Potter only exacerbated the situation. It was no secret the Potter twins did not get along, what most did not know was, they always seemed to fall back into one another- much to Riddle's irritation. Their relationship was, intense. Though, Moira and Riddle were intense as well. He seemed to ground her some, the only person capable of making her shut the fuck up, or taming her. She had no weaknesses, insanity aside, except one- her brother. Harry had been the one driving force capable of derailing her friend completely.

Thinking of Moira was painful, her only true friend and occasional lover. In the end, it seemed, they were not meant to last forever. Riddle was an insane megalomaniac, hellbent on destroying the wizarding world just to sit on top of it to watch it burn to ash, and she could not follow him down that path. Their opposing beliefs drove a wedge between them that could not be reconciled.

In the end it killed her. _Murderer._ The thought is vicious and unforgiving. _**I can take the pain away.**_ The sweet, seductive voice purrs at her. _**You've been fighting against me for so long, perhaps it's time to let go.**_ It continues softly, tempting her. And it would be easy, to retreat so far into herself to let that Thing take over. _Yes. No more pain. No more guilt._ Her magic began to tingle and spread slowly, washing over her. It was intoxicating, warm and desirable.

She moaned quietly, reveling in the overwhelming onslaught. _**That's it, see what I can do.**_ The Thing continues to purr, as her magic continues to spread like fire, sweet intoxicating fire. _We will make them all suffer._

Suddenly rage, pure rage spreads through her, she wants to crawl out of her skin, she wants blood. She wants to kill.

 _ **Yes**_ _!_ _ **Let me remind you of who you are, of what you are!**_ The Thing shrieks.

Sinks explode, the floor cracks, water runs everywhere, she feels as if she's going to explode, dark magic begins flowing rampantly out of her. She wants to scream, she wants to let it free. Steward's face comes to mind.

 _I want him broken, bleeding, and begging at my feet._ She inwardly snarls. _**Yessss.**_ The stone bath cracks beneath her fingers. She wants him to suffer.

Suddenly Venecia's face flits through her mind, a fleeting image, innocent, pure and just so fucking good. It's not much, but enough to fracture her magic from completely overcoming her.

 _ **NO! Let. ME. OUT!**_ The Thing screams.

 _Have you forgotten, that I am the one in control here._ She snarls back. The Thing hackles at her. _**Of course Love, look at your control.**_ It mocks.

She closes her eyes, and breathes deeply. In. Out. In. Out. And repeats it till she feels that intoxicating essence pull back into her.

Opening her eyes she sees the wreckage she's just created. Her head begins to pound, and she feels sick, as if she's going to vomit. Her naked body shivering and her curly hair dripping water down her back. The world begins to spin.

"Hermione!" She hears a voice.

It sounds familiar, though she can't quite place it. Turning slowly she faintly see's the blurry image of Alphard Black running towards her before she collapses and the world turns black.

* * *

...

Hermione woke up with a splitting headache and realized she was in the infirmary. Her whole body felt as if it had been slammed by a truck. In short, _everything_ hurt. Her bones ached and limbs felt like it was on fire.

"The girl needs rest," the familiar voice of Poppy stated determinedly.

Hermione nearly rolled her eyes. _Yeah, like rest is going to solve this problem._

"I understand you want to speak with her-

"I need to know what happened," Dumbledore's voice nearly made her flinch. "We need to get this sorted before winter break."

"We all know what happened," Poppy stated firmly. "That unstable ghost subjected that poor girl to dark magic. We all know that Myrtle died horrifically, just leave the poor girl alone and question her after she's been properly rested." She finished strongly.

 _Myrtle? They honestly believe that worthless twit caused all this?_

The lot of them were all idiots. Well except for Dumbledore, obviously he had known the truth all along. But she took it as a blessing, the last thing she needed was the staff getting curious about her, or worse, Riddle finding out.

The curtains suddenly opened and Steward just stood there eyeing her for a moment. She hadn't even realized he was there. Something in his gaze was off, but she couldn't help the rush that surged through her. His eyes were devouring her, so intense, before the dark look flit away as if it was never there to begin with.

He moved and sat by her bed, concern clearly written on his face.

"You gave us quite the scare Miss Granger," he said before taking her hand and squeezing it. Goosebumps immediately erupted at his touch, she fought the urge to shiver. "But I'm glad you're okay. Poppy doesn't want me in here for long, but I had to check on you," he finished with a smile.

They way he spoke was so sincere, it made her blush slightly.

"Thank you," she whispered in a hoarse tone, immediately feeling pain on her tongue.

"You accidentally bit your tongue last night, Professor Dumbledore healed it but it'll still be sore for a few days," he said while rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand.

"Dumbledore? I don't understand Poppy-

Suddenly he put two fingers against her mouth effectively cutting her off.

"Don't speak, it'll only cause you pain." he stated as he then moved his fingers and brushed her hair from her face. "He was afraid if he waited on Poppy, you would have had irreversible damage done. You nearly bit it clean off." He continued before leaning down some sending her heart racing at his close proximity. "Now, try to get some rest. I'll be back to visit soon." He breathed into her ear before walking away leaving her breathless.

* * *

...

"Shh, would you lower voice,"

"What? I'm not even talking that loudly."

"Yes your are, the whole castle can probably hear you."

Hermione blinked some, the voices surrounding her. As she opened her eyes, Venecia immediately looms over her. Her eyes wide with worry and relief.

"Oh thank Merlin! We were all so worried," she exclaimed. "How are you, do you feel okay? Do you need something to drink? Oh you probably need a change of clothes, oh and food-

"Venecia," I croak, cutting off her rambling. "I'm fine."

"Seriously, Parks, give the girl room to breathe."

Immediately Hermione looked up and saw Alphard standing to the side, eyeing her warily.

Suddenly images from that night come flooding back, sinks cracked, water pouring, dark magic flowing rampantly around her. Alphard's body running towards her as she collapsed.

 _ **He knows.**_ The Thing whispered. _Impossible. But fuck, what was he even doing there?_ She looks in his eyes, and they peer at her with an unreadable expression. She needed to know what he knew. And fast.

"Venecia," she said and the girl immediately piped up. "Do you mind getting me some fresh clothes, I feel gross."

"Of course! I'll be right back!"

She watched as her friend all but run out of the infirmary. Alphard just stood there awkwardly.

"Do you make it a habit of running into the girl's lavatory?" She joked, trying to ease the tension. He just stood there unimpressed.

"What the fuck was that," he hissed at her.

He sounded angry and suspicious. Not good. Not good at all.

"I..I.. Don't know," she stammered. "One minute I was bathing then-

"Don't lie to me," he said sharply. "You looked different," he whispered sitting down closer to her. "Your eyes, they were black, and" he paused, his gaze raking over her.

"Yes I know I was naked as the day I came into this world. You don't have to remind me," she replied scathingly.

"I've never felt magic like that before and Myrtle wasn't even there," he replied. "So I repeat myself," he said coldly before leaning in closer to her. "What the fuck was that," he demanded.

His eyes were sharp, his demeanor cold and rigid. He was no idiot. She knew he wouldn't just settle for 'accident' or 'I don't know' and if the fool ran off to Riddle, then she'd have an even bigger mess to clean up.

"What happened is none of your concern," she said pointedly, dropping the mask. "And it would due you well to forget it ever happened," she replied sharply watching his eyes darken.

Poppy comes into view along with a few girls from her dorm.

"Don't go searching for answers," she whispered coldly before softening her expression some and grabbing his hand. "Honestly Alphard, just forget what you saw, it's in your best interest and mine," she finished squeezing his hand.

He looked at her hard, as if contemplating her request before sighing and leaning back into his chair.

"Fine," he replied.

But she knew it was not fine. She knew he would keep on digging. Suddenly something moved in her line of vision. Turning her head, Steward was eyeing them. His dark eyes gazing at them both.

 _Look at what you caused. Happy now._ She directed her thoughts at the Thing.

 _ **Immensely**_ _._ It purred.

* * *

...

There we have it. Please let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

Well, I was going to wait a little longer to update, but I'm impatient so yeah. Hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

CHAPTER 7

* * *

...

" _You're doing it again," she whispers against my lips._

 _Her hand runs up and down my arm lightly, spreading fire under her fingertips, as she shifts on top of me, her hair cascading around us like a curtain. Turning my head away I look at the stone wall. My thoughts won't stop, the Thing won't stop mocking me._

" _Sorry, it seems I'm a little off tonight," I reply softly._

 _Her fingers grasp my chin and turns my head back to hers before she leans in and kisses me hard. I feel breathless as heat begins to crawl through my veins. Soon her tongue swipes my mouth and I open my own, our tongues clashing as she presses into me. My breathing hitches as I feel her fingers roll over my nipple, sharply pulling and I moan in pain and pleasure._

 _Suddenly she grabs my neck with such force I start to see black spots as her hand wonders down between my legs, the place I'm aching for her touch, teasing me. In my frustration I lightly bite her tongue and taste blood. She practically growls in my mouth squeezing my neck even more._

" _Your impudence will not be tolerated," she whispers seductively before feeling her wand against my pelvic bone. "Perhaps this will remind you of who you are sharing your bed with," she breathes into my ear before slamming her fingers inside of me. "Crucio."_

 _I scream. My skin feels on fire, my insides churning and melting, my muscles feel like they're tearing a part. My legs move frantically with her fingers and her mouth descends on mine, teeth clashing before brutally biting down and tearing into my lip. I am in Hell. The tidal wave begins to build, my mind is coming undone._

 _Almost._

 _Almost._

 _ **Almost**_ _._

 _I feel my body curl, my oxygen giving out, she pulls my body upwards, her hand fisting in my hair brutally yanking it back. Lips nick and lick on my neck. The pressure is building at the base of my spine, words that have no meaning are falling from my mouth. My hands hold onto her as I feel it._

 _I'm on the edge, right on the fucking edge._

" _Let. Go," she demands roughly._

 _And I'm falling over the precipice, pleasure slams into me as I ride it out, wave after wave with such force I'm nearly sobbing. My body breaks, the curse lifts and we collapse together on the floor._

 _We lay there in silence, regaining our breath. She finally turns towards me, her red hair clinging to her body with sweat._

" _Parkinson killed herself," Moira says blandly. "The little twit threw herself off the Astronomy Tower. Be ready, Dumbledore will not be lenient this time," she finishes before standing up and gathering her clothes._

" _He has no proof," I spit out. "Parkinson, is not my problem. If she felt the need to rid herself from the world, then good. We're all better off for it."_

" _Be that is it may," she responds while getting dressed. "But you were sloppy this time, Parkinson's memory started coming back. And they found her in enough time to extract those memories before the bitch died. If she remembers anything of that day in the chamber, he'll send you straight to Nurmengard."_

 _Unacceptable. I refuse to rot in Nurmengard. But I can't help but feel dread crawling up my body. Moira's right. If Parkinson remembers our little 'girl talk' in the Chamber, I am royally fucked. I need to speak with Riddle. He'll know what to do._

* * *

...

"Settle down," Steward's sharp voice booms over the loud classroom. "We will begin dueling lessons shortly, so Ladies, feel free to head over to the Library and work on your assignments. Boys, pair up."

Hermione began gathering her book, parchment rolls and quill.

"I hear that Professor Pletchly will be supervising us today," Venecia whispered in her ear. "I swear, I think she really has it out for you."

 _Yeah, no shit._

"Humph, well if the woman would loosen that knot on top of her head, maybe she would relax some," She replied as the two girls made their way to the door.

"Hermione!" Venecia reprimanded but still giggled all the same.

"Miss Granger," Steward's voice called behind her.

 _God. What now?_ She turned to face him while trying to school her irritation.

"Stay behind. This would be an excellent opportunity for you to progress with your extracurricular readings." His voice was final, leaving no room for discussion. "You may read in my office."

"Sorry," Venecia mouthed before heading out with the other girls.

Irritation swept through her. Pletchly had assigned a rather long essay and due to her 'minor mishap' as the Professor so lovingly referred to as, she only had one night to get it done. She needed this study break. Not to waste time reading more about magical cores. Not to mention, she still had no fucking clue what she was going to do when Steward attempted to find hers.

"Sir-

"Go. Now." His voice was cold, demanding.

She saw red. Such an arrogant prick. _**This is a school, and as such, maybe we should teach him**_. The Thing cackled in her head. And Christ, did she want to. She wanted the bastard to know exactly to whom he was speaking to. Rage began to boil just below the surface. She could already see it, him falling down, screaming and thrashing. Blood dripping from his eyes, his mouth, his nose. His bones breaking, shattering, protruding obscenely under his skin.

Suddenly a touch on her arm broke the sick fascination.

"Breathe Hermione," Alphard's voice was low and soft.

She slowly looked up and saw his eyes peering at her warily. He's afraid of her, and yet here he is calming her down, bringing her back to reality. She almost pities him.

"Mr. Black, I do recall quite clearly to find a partner, not to stop for a chat with Miss Granger," Steward barked.

Immediately, Alphard's hand dropped from her person and he mumbles a 'Sorry' before stepping away and pairing up with Christlin Lestrange.

Hermione glanced over and sees a rather annoyed expression on Steward's face. _What I wouldn't give to tear it off._ She thought before quickly ascending up the stairs to his office. Pulling the book from her bag, she continued where she left off.

As she continued to read, she hears a loud ruckus below her. The boys, no doubt, were hexing each other to London and back. She's somewhat jealous. She longed to be able to release her magic, but due to her 'condition' it seems that it was rather impossible. To say she was frustrated, would be the understatement of the century. Though, she knew she should count herself lucky, the Thing, having kept her from losing her magic altogether, she didn't, she felt bitter.

She had been stupid, careless and sloppy. Parkinson, the bitch, was her downfall. Just the mere memory of the pug-faced little twit made her blood boil. She'd wish that she'd been the one to push the little bint off the tower, at least then she'd have the satisfaction of watching her hideous face cave in after hitting the stone ground. But alas, no, the little twit went and did it herself and fucked Hermione over in the process.

Trying to read was useless, she was too wound up, too agitated to pay attention and tossed the book aside. Steward's office was quite bare, as if he never tried to make it his. It was strange, then again, _he_ was rather strange. She suspected there was more to her DADA professor than what met the eye. He was secretive, charismatic and charming. He had a warmness to him whereas Riddle lacked, and she almost wondered if was real.

An ornate chest from the corner caught her eye. Feeling a little mischievous, she got up and began to snoop. After all, if Steward was going to monopolize her time for absolutely no reason, then really it was his fault she's bored out of her mind. Slowly she approached the chest and lightly touched the wood. The object practically buzzed with magic.

Looking over her shoulder, she pushed up her large glasses and unlocked it. Suddenly black smoke emerged and quickly took the shape of a human, a girl and to her horror, as herself- without any glamours. Her long dark hair cascades over her shoulders, the familiar scars on her face, but it's her eyes, black and soulless that alarmed her the most.

The girl before her smirked wickedly, and suddenly she sees the familiar body of Ginny Weasley, broken, mutilated, bleeding and hideous laying at her alter's feet. It was sickening and exhilarating at once. She vaguely realized it was her greatest fear and deepest desire all at once. Her emotions were conflicting with one another. She knows she should get rid of it.

 _Just a minute longer._

"Ridikkulus,"a voice said behind her, and just like that, the form begins to change to something unrecognizable before being driven back into the chest.

Slowly she turned her head and finds Steward leaning casually against the wall with an unreadable expression on his face.

"You should be more careful Miss Granger, you could've been hurt."

"It was only a boggart Professor, I highly doubt it could do much more other than try to scare me," she snapped getting up rather ungracefully.

"I'm surprised you recognized it," he said with a lifted brow before walking towards her, having her trapped between himself and his desk. "Even more surprised by what shape it took," he finished darkly.

Immediately her breathing quickened. He was much too close, and little hairs on the back of her neck stood.

"What are you doing Sir," she asked in a mousy voice.

"Merely making an observation Miss Granger," he replied with a cold glint in his eyes.

"It was only a scary image," she said shakily.

"Do. Not. Play. Dumb." He enunciated backing her into the desk with such force his quill holder fell over, clattering to the floor. "With me," he finished darkly, his arms on either side of her, effectively caging her in.

His face was mere inches from her own, his breath hot on her cheek. His magic began swirling dangerously between them both. It cackled and bit at her skin harshly. It was so overwhelming she felt faint. It was deliciously powerful and all consuming, had she not been accustomed to such power, she would have been afraid.

"I-I-I," she stuttered attempting to save face while gripping the edge of the desk hard. "I'm not," she breathed submissively and lowered her gaze.

She half expected him to move, but he did not. He remained rooted to the spot. Then his hand shot out and wrapped around her throat forcefully while pulling her to his chest.

"Let me be clear Miss Granger," he breathed hotly in her ear. "The rest of these fools might believe that a ghost" He spat the word as if disgusted. "Expended a rather large amount of dark magic, but I am no idiot." He said while digging his wand into her abdomen. "I am not sure what happened in that bathroom, but rest assured I **will** find out." He finished before letting her go quite forcefully, ignoring her coughing.

His eyes were dark, with a predatory glint. He was playing with fire and her patience had damn near worn out.

 _Enough._

Leaning over and coughing more she began to laugh, the sound hysterical even to her own ears. His eyes narrowed at her personality shift. Slowly she stood up straighter. She was not afraid and no longer interested in playing this little game with him.

"With all due respect Steward," she spat. "I really wouldn't go putting that nose of yours in my business. You might not like what you find," she finished, chest heaving some before reaching the door. "It would be a shame if something rather unpleasant happened to you," she finished with a cruel smirk before exiting, leaving behind an extremely flustered Professor.

* * *

 _..._

 _Damn it all to hell. How could I be so stupid!_

 _ **Perhaps this is the best course, that little tongue of his was most taxing.**_ The Thing purred at her. And it was, regardless though, she had dropped the mask of being the submissive and good, little mediocre child and had shown a flash of her true face. It was too late now to go back, unless she obliviated him, which she knew was highly unlikely to be successful.

"Fuck," she swore while tossing her jumper on the bed forcefully.

This was not good. At first Riddle was her main concern, but now, remembering the way Steward's magic lashed powerfully at her, this was just as bad, if not worse. Sighing some she collapsed on her bed.

 _What the hell am I going to do now?_

The thought hung in the air. Truth was, outside of killing the damn bastard, she hadn't the faintest clue how to handle this. But killing him was not an option. He was a teacher, his ties to the board could raise suspicions to the Ministry. No, she'd just have to tread carefully from now on and watch her back.

Images of the boggart filled her mind. It was strange seeing herself considering she hadn't looked like herself for some time now. She hadn't altered her appearance too much, just hid the scars, made her hair shorter and more frizzy. Her fractured magic was to be blamed for her sickly, pale skin. But it was obvious that the form was her, and the fact that Steward saw it, was nothing but trouble for her.

He was now going to be watching her like a hawk.

 _So much for going unnoticed._ She thinks with a snort.

What she wouldn't have given to have Moira here. Her friend always did know what to do. Of course, Moira probably would have already unleashed Riddle on her for the sake of just _something_ to do, so then again, maybe not.

Suddenly the door flew open, hitting the wall with such a bang she nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Okay, you have to help me pick out the perfect dress robes!" Venecia all but shrieked as she ran into the dormitory.

The girl immediately threw open her trunk and started tossing gowns on the bed like a mad woman. Fabric went flying along with accessories and Hermione just stood there dumbfounded at the sight.

"Hello!" Her friend practically yelled, flailing her hands in the air dramatically. "Slughorn's party is only three hours from now and I have no idea what to wear! Emergency Hermione! **EMERGENCY**!" She over pronounced.

"It's just a party Venecia, it's not as if the School is on fire," Hermione replied scathingly.

Venecia's eyes went wide before narrowing in the most scary expression she'd ever seen.

"Just a party?" She hissed and immediately Hermione backed up with hands in the air.

 _Holy hell! She looks possessed!_

"Just a party!" She screamed quite loudly. "Only the most important wizards are in attendance! I have to find the perfect dress or I'll be the laughing stock and my future will be absolutely ruined!" She shrieked and collapsed on her bed sobbing.

 **Sobbing!**

 _Oh for Christ's sake! This is ridiculous!_

Regardless of her friend's dramatic antics, she felt pity for the poor girl and with a suppressed groan slowly went to her.

"Look, you're right," she said patting her awkwardly on the back.

"No, you think it's stupid, you think I'm stupid!" Venecia wailed.

 _God, girls these days! I am not equipped to handle this!_

"It's not stupid, and neither are you," she continued in a tone she hoped sounded soothing. It probably wasn't.

Venecia's sobs died down some.

"Really?" She replied with a hiccup. Her eyes bloodshot and puffy.

The whole scenario was just ridiculous.

"Really," she said before picking up a powder blue gown. "This one is pretty," she said handing it to her.

Her friend held the gown, eyeing it somewhat as she tried to calm down.

"I suppose," she said with another hiccup. "I could try it on."

"Yeah, go on. I promise I'll tell you if you look awful in it," Hermione said with a smile.

Venecia stood shakily and got undressed quickly before slipping the dress on. It was rather beautiful. It had an empire waistline, with a gauzy material on the outside. She looked exactly like a princess from a fairy-tale.

"It's beautiful, and you look gorgeous in it," Hermione encouraged.

Venecia positively beamed.

"You think?" She asked softly. "My mother bought it from Paris."

Paris. Of course.

"I promise," she replied.

"Do you think," her friend started and toyed with her hands before biting her lip some. " That Mr. Riddle will think I'm pretty?" She asked bashfully.

 _Oh shoot me now_. She internally groaned. How could she have forgotten! The mere idea that Riddle had an interest in her friend made her nearly see red, but she was also concerned. Riddle always has a reason for his actions, and she knew his interest had absolutely nothing to do with him being attracted to Venecia.

But her friend looked up and there was so much hope in her innocent eyes. And damn it, she didn't want to ruin her night. Sooner or later she'd find out what the snake wanted and she'd chop his fingers off if he dared to do anything uncouth towards her friend.

"He would be blind not to notice you in that gown," she replied with a strained smile.

Immediately the girl grinned and skipped to the dressing table.

"Well, my hair and makeup has to be perfect! Imagine! Maybe we'll dance and if I'm lucky he might even kiss me!" She said dreamily while leaning on her hand.

 _Ugh. I'd sooner cut out my tongue than lip lock with that creep!_

"One can only dream," she replied instead.

* * *

So what do you think so far? I'm trying to make the chapters longer, my ADD kicks in so I have a hard with that. As of now, I will be posting once a week.

Things are finally heating up between Hermione and Steward!

And speaking of Steward, how do you find him so far?

Well, Dear Readers, please let me know all your thoughts. I really appreciate all your opinions, they really make my day and keep me motivated!


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